Months
by Bones and Crows
Summary: Set some time after the Konoha Invasion, Gaara is having some trouble implementing and understanding his new view on the world, especially with those closest to him. (I do not own Naruto).
It was becoming more common occurrence that he found himself in doorways and thresholds. He looked into the room beyond; white sunlight pierced their round windows, dust motes dancing in the heat. Outside, like the hymns of desert ghosts, the muffled sounds of whistling wind and hissing sand haunted Suna's residents even in their domed shelters.

Though their living room wasn't sparse, they hadn't bothered themselves with decorative furniture and unnecessary trinkets. There was no point if one would hardly ever be home anyway. He tilted his head, gaze flitting to the low table by the windows before he turned his head away. A scribbling sound reached his ears. Reflexively, his fingers curled around the doorframe. His heart skipped a beat, the uncertainty snaking its way around him, lingering and treacherous.

Months ago, he wouldn't have dreamt himself lurking in the unsure limbo of a doorway.

Suddenly, the scribbling stopped. He winced.

"Hey, what have you got there?" she asked, voice breaking the silence.

Months ago, she wouldn't have uttered a word to him unless it was absolutely necessary.

As immovable as a mountain and as stupefied as a fish, he just stood there.

"Is that your part of the report?"

And then as if snapped out of a haze, the vice on him loosened as his grip on the doorframe tightened. "Yes."

"Good to hear. Now if only Kankurou could do the same." Temari put her pen down, eyes steadily resting on him.

Months ago, she'd never look him in the eye. Neither of them would.

He breathed deeply, and with great effort, slowly peeled his fingers off the doorframe one, by one, by one, by one, by one. He could have been sloshing through mud as he consciously willed himself forward with each paced step.

Months ago, running would have been their first instinct too.

The low table came up to meet him as he sunk to the ground, anchoring himself with his feet tucked under him. With his left hand raised, he mechanically offered his sister his small stack of papers. "Here," he murmured.

"Thanks," she replied, assimilating his papers into her own stack. "I'm almost done with my section too. These things can get so mundane." She glanced up at him, and she gestured to the takoyaki plate on the table. "You hungry?"

"No thank you," he declined, bracing himself to get up. Just as he raised one knee out from under him, the doorway in his peripheral vision, the sound of his stomach brought him to a grinding halt.

His sister chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Why don't you have some anyway?" She pushed the plate in his direction. His pale eyes darted back to the doorway for the briefest of seconds before he slowly lowered himself back down. Tentatively, he took one.

Months ago, she wouldn't have laughed so easily in front of him.

As he sat with a composed gaze and a rigid back, he asked, " Where's Kankurou?"

"He ran out to get some tools and wood for his puppets. He said he'd be dropping in on most of the specialty shops since it's our day off. So he probably won't be back for awhile."

"I see."

The sound of time ticking away echoed in his ears. He chewed his food, staring down at the tabletop, out the window, at the clock, anywhere else but in front of him. The silence stretched on, as stifling as the desert heat. He heard a clicking sound, before the scribbling resumed, and he dared to allow himself to take a quick peek up.

He saw the movement of her hand and wrist as her pen glided over the paper. He almost frowned. Whatever there was of their conversation, it had dissipated. Whether intentional or not, she had left him an opening, and now the decision was up to him. He was free to get up and leave if he wanted to, to make up some excuse about training or even tending to his small collection of cacti. He could even leave without saying a word. Again, he could see the doorway, a faint apparition glinting at the edges of his vision.

Months ago, leaving would have been so simple.

Yet, his body didn't move.

As if looking from the outside in, his eyes slowly drifted up, up and up.

She was looking down at the paperwork before her. Focused, she worked wordlessly. The sunlight shone on her features, her dark teal eyes seeming to absorb the light. He blinked, taking in the way she sat - back slouched, chin resting in one of her hands, head tilted nonchalantly, so unperturbed. It took him a moment to realize that she had her hair down. Even back when they were younger kids and she was just a little girl, he had always identified her with those four odd ponytails.

As he watched her work in the silence, he couldn't help but notice the resemblance.

 _You look like her._

The thought settled and melted into the quiet. It wasn't until a moment later and Temari's slightly wide eyes did he realize what had just transpired.

She gave him a small crooked smile. "Well, you aren't the first person to have told me that."

His hands clenched on his knees and he turned his head. Outside the window was starting to look interesting. "If I offended you-"

"None taken," she cut him off. "There is no reason to be."

He didn't say anything back. Where did that come from? His eyes traced a blue vein on one of his pale hands. _She_ was a common denominator between them, yet unspoken of. He personally didn't think much of her beyond the sand in his gourd. He couldn't bring himself too. His hands curled into fists, the blue vein taught against his skin. Why, why did it matter?

He looked back at his sister, and not for the first time did he wonder at the numerous contrasts in their lives.

She, who was born without a fate, without seeing red, without a tail, without the loneliness.

She, who knew a mother's smile, a mother's touch, a mother's warm embrace.

He, who had a faded picture and hands made red with a mother's blood.

"How are we related?" he asked suddenly, heart thumping.

For a second she didn't respond. "We're siblings…..," she replied at last, a strange lilt in her voice. She stared at him, her sharp gaze boring into his. "But you really mean something else, don't you?"

He closed his eyes. "'Siblings.' That's what we are called. But what does it mean to be siblings? What does sharing the same blood mean? What is family?" _What makes it worth it?_ His throat constricted as he took a shaky breath.

He leaned in closer. "Temari, what is family to _you_?"

She put her pen down, eyes darkening as she turned her own head to look out the window. "Mm, that is the question, isn't it?" She paused. "I honestly don't know if I'm qualified to answer that. Or rather, if I could give you the answer you need."

"Please," he almost whispered, voice gravel. If she, with the label of sister, couldn't give him an answer, then it was pointless.

Months ago, he wouldn't have pleaded.

She stared at him for a long moment. Maybe it was just the way the sunlight caught her features, but he had never before seen such a strange, tumultuous expression in anybody's eyes. Even in the heat of the desert, he felt his heart freeze. "To me," she said at last, "family is a mess."

His breath caught. He clutched his stomach, as if struck. A throbbing built in the back of his head.

Her words sliced through his being as she continued, "Family is chaotic, overwhelming, needy and distant, full of endless responsibilities and obligations, selfish whims, and is draining of one's emotions and one's sense of self. It's agonizing."

His vision blurred. Was he hunched over the table? He couldn't tell. He was drowning, drowning in his own sand. The door was so far, far away.

Despite their past, he never doubted her honesty, her insight.

So it was true.

It was pointless for him.

Months ago, months ago, months ago…

His eyes would have been dead and he wouldn't have cared.

None of this would have mattered to him.

"But," she breathed, "family is also simple."

His head jerked up, eyes wide.

He had to strain to hear her words, her voice unusually small and miles away. "There is more to it than just creating connections. Bonds may hold it together, but family is different aspects of the same soul. Family is the stronger, unequivocal extension of one's self. Family is where _all_ equate to _one_.

To me, family is the aspect of my soul where I find solace.

To me, family is Kankurou. And you." Her gaze pierced his, and for a moment, they were no longer two separate entities.

His thoughts went numb as his body tingled, his heart pumping a strange sensation through his veins to his whole being, something he had felt just once before. The image of a streak of blood painted on his forehead flashed in his mind. Blond hair and intense blue eyes had looked at him, at _him_. Not at his shadow with the tail, but at the person he was. Just like now.

He was at the precipice of a dark void, and only now was he seeing the bridge to cross it and leave it behind. "I…." he rasped, taking a shuddering breath. He closed his eyes, as if it would help him stay in one piece.

"Thank you."

Months later, he could have a chance.

Her eyes widened before she shook her head slowly, the corners of her mouth curling up. "There's no need. That's something you don't have to thank family for."

He looked at his sister, his soul resonating again.

Months later, he could have a small quiet moment like this.

"What about you?" he heard her ask.

"Me?" He had no control of his voice.

"What is family to _you_?" She was the one to lean in close this time.

He almost jolted. For a moment, he couldn't respond. Throughout his life, he had been at the mercy of other's heartless judgement, donned in masks of false smiles and cold eyes. Like a new food, her sincerity left a foreign taste in his mouth. He braced himself, about to say something, but what?

Centimeter by centimeter, he let his mouth close. In the end, what words could he say to express the truth? They were just sound.

So instead, he returned the favor, and gave a ghost of a smile back.

Months later, he could have hope.

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A/N: Hey all, thanks for reading! This was the first story for me to publish here, so much appreciation for finding some obscure amateur writer like myself! Feel free to tell me if you hated it or liked it. ;]


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